


The Broken Shield

by algol_ardhanari



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cum Play, Leashes, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Power Play, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/algol_ardhanari/pseuds/algol_ardhanari
Summary: A short smut story I made for a friend.
Kudos: 4





	The Broken Shield

“In here, please.”

Of course, Algol didn’t actually need to give that command, but it was a common courtesy anyways. Courtesy described some of what that man did. He looks rather unassuming in a coat, with a dress shirt underneath, black slacks, and wearing leather boots and gloves, with his long hair tied back. Fitting for the cold climate of Ishgard – hopefully something that would improve once they walked into the apartment. The Roegadyn turns the key and pushes the door open, flicking the light of his apartment’s living room on before walking in.

The Miqo’te man following him groans mentally as he does. “Of course. I know it’s here, Saesraensyn.” Aya’to Gishi isn’t precisely gifted with patience. He swipes some locks of blonde hair away from his face, his face turning to a frown.

“Of course you do. You are a regular. Would you rather have me just open the door in silence, then?” Absolutely no emotion to the larger man’s words, and he doesn’t even turn around.

“You know what, forget it.” Aya’to simply walks in, his armor clacking as he takes each step. While Algol could reasonably pass for a normal civilian (albeit a rather well dressed one) if it wasn’t because of the steel staff on his back, Aya’to was much more obviously a warrior – shining, white, black and gold armor, and a sword and shield betraying his discipline. He takes a deep breath as he walks in, enjoying the atmosphere of the heated apartment – a welcome change from the biting winter cold of the outside. Still, he isn’t used to the size of that doorway and space. Built with Roegadyn in mind, he figures.

“Mm. Into my office, please.” Inside, Algol closes the door and locks it, before taking his black coat off and hanging it by the door. “I doubt the coat hanger will hold the weight of your armor, so you should probably put it on the floor. I doubt you want to wear all that while inside a heated apartment.”

“…how considerate of you.” Trying to push the idea that he’s obeying Algol off his mind, he deftly takes off his armor – a motion he’s repeated several times in the past. Gently, he places it on the ground, aware that the polished wood surface would probably scratch easily. He can feel Algol’s gaze upon his back as he does – there’s got to be a reason he hasn’t walked deeper into the house yet.

Finally, as the armor touches the ground, he turns around and walks in, unlocking a door further in. “Feel free to leave your sword and shield there as well. I doubt you will need those here.”

Aya’to complies, before getting up, straightening up his shirt, and walking deeper into the apartment, following the larger man. The lights inside the office are already on, the walls lined with bookcases stuffed to the brim with books, and a wooden desk with a big chair behind it upon one end of the room. It feels almost like a professor’s office – which tracks, given that Algol is a professor of Astrology. Surely it’s just an environment he’s used to working in. The man himself is leaning against the desk, looking down at nothing through his glasses, and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt up until the elbows.

“So, where is it?”

“One moment.” Algol finishes rolling up his sleeves. He’s got to be doing it on purpose – being as slow and methodical as possible just to piss Aya’to off. Or maybe that’s just how he is all the time, and Aya’to has no temper for the man’s actions at all. Done with his sleeves, he unbuttons the top of his shirt, and pulls an envelope from his right pocket. It looks heavy and thick. He drops it on the desk behind him, turns around, and peels the top open. “Well, I would offer you a seat, but I feel you would most definitely consider it condescending.” Vaguely, he gestures towards a couple of chairs in front of the desk – smaller than the chair Algol obviously uses for work, and most definitely there for when he’s entertaining researchers, students, or clients.

God knows what kind of clients.

“What do you think I am, Saesraensyn, a child?”

The man doesn’t answer, instead pulling the contents of the envelope out. An incredibly high sum of money in his gloved hands, in many cash notes. “Come closer, then.”

Aya’to sighs and walks up to the desk, looking at the amount of money in the man’s hands. It’s a lot. No wonder he can afford such an apartment on a professor’s salary. “That’s…”

“Our payment for the _adventuring_ gig, yes.” He looks around, absentmindedly. Deftly, he starts counting the bills in his hand, moving them from one hand to the other, until he’s left with about a third of the mountain of bills on his right hand. This, he hands to Aya’to. “Your part for the job.”

Begrudgingly, Aya’to takes the money from his hands and pockets it. Some shady business Algol was running. It wasn’t normal for a man to have to change his whole appearance to do adventurer activities, and now Aya’to knew exactly why. It wasn’t exactly pretty. “Good.”

“And, of course, nobody knows you helped me with this. Thank you very much for your business.”

Aya’to almost wants to punch Algol due to the delivery of that line. It feels mocking, somehow. “Right. I’ll see you around, then.” He turns around to leave—

“Oh, before you go, though…”

He stops and looks back. Algol turns around and fishes something out of his shirt pocket – something that has to be flat, considering how it hardly shows no matter how much the shirt is pressing against his ample chest. One final cash note, and a piece of paper. “For you, Aya’to.”

“…huh?” The Miqo’te approaches and grabs the things from his hands.

“A tip, from our employer. He says he was incredibly satisfied with your performance.”

Aya’to begins reading out the note… a compliment on his butt.

“He also found you greatly attractive.”

Aya’to’s eyes shoot up. “What? He only saw my eyes.”

“They are very handsome eyes, if I do say so myself.” Algol smirks and crosses his arms.

“On the Twelve, if this is just you messing with me or hitting on me, Saesraensyn… I have _told_ you I want you to keep me out of your… _business._ ”

Algol takes a deep breath and sighs, leaning back on the desk and supporting himself with his arms. “Must you? Do you not grow weary of being on a surname basis with me, Aya’to? Of course, I cannot treat you the same way, given how Miqo’te names work – it would make no sense, and it would feel disrespectful to your family.” He arches his brows. “Of course, that does not stop you from calling me _son of the six circles_ all the time.” A smile creeps up his face as he translates the meaning of his surname. Of course.

Aya’to groans and crosses his arms. “You are dangerous. It’s best to keep people like you at arm’s length, and I’d rather keep it like that, thank you very much.”

Yet, Aya’to’s eyes drift down, below Algol’s face and into his cleavage. A large, ample chest, with a layer of black hair upon his impeccable pale skin, neatly trimmed to length and well taken care of. Sometimes, when his shirts strain most, you can even tell his nipples are pierced, through the white fabric he tends to wear on his top.

Algol stares at Aya’to for a few seconds, before arching a brow. “Of course, that is not the only thing you seem to grow weary of.” With one hand, he undoes another button of his shirt, revealing more of his chest, crossing his arms to push his pecs further up and out.

Aya’to gasps before he can compose himself and try to remain stoic. Fuck. “…of course I do, Saesraensyn. It’s impossible _not_ to stare when you walk around the way you do, flaunting your body like some common whore.”

“Oh…?” His tone rises at the end and he tilts his head. With a smirk on his face, he separates from the desk and slowly walks a circle around Aya’to. “And _how_ do I walk, Aya’to? Care to illuminate me?”

His face is starting to burn up, having the larger man tease him like that. “Like… it looks like you have studied the way prostitutes offer themselves without a word. That… swaying of the hips, the well-fitted pants, the tilting to emphasize the bulge. Constantly selling yourself…” He looks away and to the side, trying to avert Algol’s gaze.

Algol simply chuckles. “You would be correct. Would you like to know why, however?”

No. “…yes.”

“Because it _works._ ” He leans forward, arms crossed, as he squints at Aya’to. “Because I _know_ how much it bothers men with weak minds – how much my presence worms its way into their souls and corrupts, leaving them drunk on my essence and wishing for more. And, it would seem as though, despite all your moralistic bullshit and discipline, it has worked on you as well.” His smirk grows.

Aya’to closes his eyes and gulps slowly, before turning to face Algol. He is met with the man’s bespectacled face mere inches from his own, his ample pectorals below. Within reach. “…you are disgusting. Nothing but… a lowly whore. A town mule, that everyone gets to ride and use.”

He whispers – a hoarse, husky tone. “One that you are _burning_ up on the inside to ride and use, over and over, until its legs give way under its body. I can tell. I can tell the way you stare at me, the way a starved beast would look at a hunk of exposed, fresh meat.” He slowly licks his lips. “A hunk of meat that you are simply too much of a coward to sink your fangs into.” Even if Aya’to is taller than most Miqo’te men, and with an impressive physique to boot – like a Highlander, almost – he is still dwarfed by the Roegadyn’s sheer wide frame. He feels tiny and powerless. And he can’t tell if he likes that or not. He has never felt smaller in his life, until that moment – not when facing beasts and gods with world-ending powers… with a hungry, easy man staring him down.

“Fuck you. Everything about you is so… sinister.”

“And yet, that is specifically what drives you insane the most – the thrill, the danger, the knowledge that I could hurt you gravely at any moment. What stops you, then? Why do you not give in to your base, animalistic instinct, Aya’to?”

That is a very good question.

He doesn’t have an answer.

Looking down at the man’s chest, it has never looked so inviting. Warm, plump, and wide open for grabbing. Hesitantly, he stretches a bare hand out. When his fingers meet the pale skin, Algol smiles. He gulps. “This…”

“Go on. There is plenty to grab.”

With more confidence, he puts both hands on the man’s chest. Algol stands straight, putting his arms to the sides, to let him grab more easily. He runs his hands over the surface of the chest, feeling the warmth through the fabric, meeting the nipples. Indeed, there’s something metallic driven through them. As Aya’to runs his fingers over them, feeling what it is, Algol bites his lower lip, still smiling. “How are they… so big?”

“Muscle and fat. The men love it. Obviously, you do as well.” His hands go up to unbutton the rest of his shirt, throwing it open, revealing the uniform layer of black hair on all his torso. Below the plump chest, it’s as though abs begin and then cease to exist, giving way to a slight layer of pudge towards the bottom of the man’s stomach. Aya’to finishes pushing the shirt open, noting that it neatly folds behind his chest, towards the sides. Indeed, to top off the large chest, Algol’s nipples, a gentle pink color, and slightly puffy, with black metallic rods driven through them horizontally. Barbell piercings. Algol has at least his ears and his nipples pierced. The Gods know what else. He touches the tips, pushing them slightly, drawing a small gasp from Algol. “Have fun. They are very sensitive.”

“They’re almost like…” Aya’to gulps hard. Before he finishes that thought, he finds himself drawn to the chest. His lip quivers, attracted to the nipples. Before he knows it he’s wrapped himself around them, feeling the warmth of the skin and the metal against his tongue. He licks, running circles around the right nipple with his tongue, as his right hand grabs the other pec and gropes harshly. Algol lets out a moan, leaning back on the desk once more. Still, Aya’to wants more. When he’s done sucking one nipple, his lips move almost instinctively to the other one, a fine layer of saliva rendering the pink mounds glossy. As Aya’to continues licking and sucking, Algol rubs his growing bulge through his pants. Aya’to starts bucking his hips, rubbing his already stiff erection against Algol’s legs and groin. Feeling this, Algol smirks.

He puts his hand against Aya’to’s neck, pushing back and choking him slightly. His tongue is still stuck out, a thin string of spit joining it and Algol’s bright, glossy nipple. Almost confused, his eyes turn from the man’s chest to his face. “There is something even more fun you can do with this chest, you know…”

Aya’to growls, and an even bigger smile appears on Algol’s face.

“Oh, so you don’t like being led around… alright.” Algol takes his shirt off entirely and lazily drops it on the desk. It’s obvious even when fully clothed, but his physique is impressive – a large, muscular man, only slightly deteriorated due to his sedentary lifestyle. Arms easily thicker than Aya’to’s head. He leans back, reaching for something on the desk…

A collar and leash, made of black leather and with some metallic studs on it. Aya’to saw that when walking in and didn’t conclude it was a leash – even though it looked like it, he didn’t assume Algol would just keep such a thing out on his desk. Or did he know this would happen when they walked in, and manipulated Aya’to into making him take it out? Aya’to is already cringing internally, thinking that Algol wants to put that on him…

…when Algol wraps the collar around his own neck, raising his head so it fits well. A firm, snug fit. He takes the leash and drapes it over Aya’to’s shoulders, before reaching back and taking his long, black hair out of its ponytail, letting it drop over his shoulders, reaching his mid-back. One eye looks down at Aya’to, the other hidden behind long, straight black hair. “Lead around, then. Break the mule.” He smirks.

There’s indeed something about Algol’s presence that is intoxicating – this raw aura of sexuality and dominance, that remains present even as he is wearing a collar and is ostensibly the sub. Aya’to isn’t sure what it is, but he wants more. He grabs the end of the leash, hesitatingly pulling Algol downwards… but the man complies. He keeps dragging down, and before long, Algol has dropped to his knees, looking up at Aya’to and smiling. He isn’t sure whether he should be feeling disgust or lust, but he feels both.

He takes Algol’s glasses off and puts them on the desk. He unzips his pants and pulls his underwear down, revealing a thick, already throbbing cock, mere inches away from Algol’s face. “Yes…” The man licks his lips in anticipation, feeling himself drool

Aya’to doesn’t notice it, but his breathing has gotten heavier and deeper, and his face is fully red. It’s been a while since he’s let himself go like that, and how much he wants it shows plainly on his face. Algol finds it amusing and erotic in equal parts.

“Well? Grab me and fuck me.”

He pulls upon the leash, drawing Algol’s face closer to his stiff, throbbing cock. Grabbing it by the base, he slaps the man’s cheeks and face with it, filling the air with the sounds of low, meaty thuds. His tip, dripping precum, smears upon the larger man’s cheeks and beard – but he seems to relish the feeling, his warm breath hitting the underside of his cock and balls. Aya’to brushes some locks of hair away from his face and backwards. “Open up…” Algol complies, opening his mouth wide and sticking his tongue out. Aya’to slaps his dick against it, feeling the wet, warm, spongy surface give way slightly underneath.

Algol just smiles.

Aya’to has had enough. With a hand behind Algol’s head, he starts pushing down, pushing more and more inches of his thick cock into Algol’s mouth. Very soon, he hilts, Algol’s nose buried in his short pubes… and, surprisingly, there’s no reaction from the man. No gagging, no signs of discomfort… nothing. He is used to the feeling. The only sign that something is happening is how he’s stopped breathing, and how, looking up, a faint red blush appears on his cheeks. It’s discomforting and erotic in equal parts.

Aya’to pulls back, his cock covered in spit, and strings of saliva connecting it and Algol’s tongue and lips. Still open, still gaping and warm, with no signs of distress. The man on his knees speaks. “It feels so good when the girth makes my neck strain against the collar, Aya’to. Make me feel that again.” He smiles.

Aya’to’s gaze narrows. Algol is enjoying it too much… but he’s loving the sensation as well. He starts pushing in once more, each inch of cock probing Algol’s throat making his neck bulge out slightly. Aya’to can feel when his head matches the collar, as Algol’s throat seems to compress harder on that point. It’s an additional bit of stimulation on his already sensitive cock that he relishes in. He starts thrusting, slowly going back and forth – still no signs of discomfort from the man… just the sensation that his throat has begun squeezing harder on his dick. Algol’s eyes narrow – he’d probably be smirking if his mouth wasn’t occupied.

His thrusts pick up, and his breathing does as well. As one hand grabs the back of Algol’s head and the other keeps hold of the leash, pulling on it each time he thrusts, Algol’s eyes glaze over, his mind focused only on how much he enjoys having his throat used like that. Aya’to closes his eyes, letting the sensations take him. Algol’s tongue, stuck out, touches the base of Aya’to’s cock and where it meets his balls every now and then, sticking and unsticking with each thrust. He breathes in the instants dick isn’t blocking his airways, otherwise completely focused on milking the dick inside his mouth. “Ah…” Aya’to starts moaning out loud, amongst his breaths. “Fuck…” It’s like nothing he’s experienced before. He’s never had anyone that can take his full length into their throat with so much pleasure – such a complete lack of effort. Not unlike a sex toy, only there for usage and pleasure. The leather of the collar strains with each successive trust, the telltale sound of leather stretching each time Aya’to hilts inside Algol’s open mouth, combined with the leash pulling at him. The sounds of kink.

He’s getting close. It’s too wet, warm and pleasurable for him. He usually can go for longer than this – half an hour to a full hour – but it’s barely been ten minutes and he’s already getting close. Maybe Algol is just that good. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s finally fucking the man that he’s been lusting after for so long, unsure of what his true feelings for him were. Now, with his mouth blocked, there’s no snark or evil coming from his mouth – only the wet sounds of thick spit and precum, the strained breathing, and the slight, pleased moans of an accomplished cocksucker enjoying being used. “Twelve…” His thrusting picks up even more, wet slapping sounds filling the environment each time he fully penetrates Algol’s mouth. It’s the best fucking he’s done in his life. His balls slap against Algol’s chin, full of semen aching to get out. Algol’s eyes are completely unfocused, idly playing with his own chest, pinching and tugging at his nipples – bliss, in a way. He loves being in that position.

Aya’to can’t take it anymore.

“Take it…”

He hilts one last time, pushing Algol’s face fully into his groin, leaning over his head and supporting himself on the desk behind the man. Algol’s head leans back, but he doesn’t protest as he feels the throbbing inside his mouth – potent jets of cum, shooting directly into his stomach down his throat. Aya’to keeps thrusting slowly, the salty flavor filling his mouth and swelling his cheeks. It’s plentiful, but he drinks it down regardless. He pinches his nipples harder, and his cock twitches inside his pants, shooting cum as well – the pleasure from his chest, and the fact that he’s getting used, drives him to orgasm.

After a few moments, Aya’to, gasping and exhausted, slowly pulls back, looking down at the man. His softening cock flops out of his mouth, and cum drips down onto his ample chest. His tongue hangs out from his mouth, dripping a mixture of spit and seed on his pecs, semen dripping down the sides of his mouth as well. A white mess on his tongue and on the inside of his cheeks. His gaze focuses on Aya’to’s, through half-lidded eyes, slowly and heavily breathing.

He licks his lips and swallows, before sticking out his tongue once more, showing Aya’to it is now clean. He starts laughing – a deep, booming, menacing laugh, as his mouth twists into a sickening grin. Slowly, he gets up, now towering over the man once more. He gently puts his hand behind his head and pushes him into his chest. Aya’to understands what he wants – he sticks his tongue out and laps up the cum that dripped onto Algol’s chest. Once he’s done, with the white mess still on his tongue, Algol cups his chin and presses down on his tongue with his thumb, looking down. Then, he speaks. “It’s always the most uptight prudes that give the hardest, roughest fuckings.”

Then, he kisses the man, his tongue rubbing over Aya’to’s. Even if Algol swallowed, he still tastes like cum. It’s a slow kiss, that Aya’to doesn’t entirely process, still riding the high of what just happened. Even though he wasn’t the one that had his throat harshly fucked… just how many times had Algol done that before, to compose himself so easily?

Their lips part, a string of cum and spit still joining them. “For as much as I enjoyed that, it is getting late and you should go back home.”

Aya’to finally goes back to reality, his eyes opening wide. “Wait, what about you…”

Algol chuckles. He grabs Aya’to’s hand and forces it down his pants, into the sticky mess Algol made inside. His eyebrows arch as he feels how much cum there is, and how, even then, Algol’s cock – thicker and longer than Aya’to’s, from the sensation – still throbs, like it wants for release. Mildly scary. “I will have you deal with this mess some other time.” He pulls Aya’to’s hand back out, the fingertips now coated in cum, and suckles on them, cleaning them up.

“I… see.” Aya’to takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of the sucking on his fingers. He blinks a few times, trying to compose himself further. He figures he’s overstayed his welcome and doesn’t bother asking to use the shower, hastily shoving his still wet and dripping cock inside his underwear and zipping his pants back up.

Algol takes off his collar, putting it back on the desk. “I shall wear this said other time, as well. You seemed to love it.” He cleans the edges of his mouth with his thumb, sucking on it. “Of course, I wonder what other things you love. I will simply have to milk and squeeze the answers out of you.”

“Oh…” Aya’to clears his throat. “…well. I’ll…”

Algol arches an eyebrow. “Something tells me that you want there to be a second time, Aya’to. I can feel it in you.”

Aya’to slowly nods, looking away. “…yes.” He can still feel the taste of cum on his lips. “I’ll… well, I’ll see you again.” He turns to leave, but at the edge of the door, he turns. “…Algol.”

Algol smiles. “That’s more like it.” He crosses his arms, pushing his ample pecs up, nipples barely peeking over his forearms. “My tits will be waiting, Aya’to. Here for you to use and abuse.”

Aya’to gulps, then turns and leaves. With trembling hands he puts on his armor and picks up his sword and shield, strapping them to his back. He opens the door, locking it before he closes it behind him, and leaves, back into the Ishgardian cold. It’s even worse now, at night. He craves that warmth again.

He didn’t feel anything sinister. No magic, no curses or hexes – though Algol, absurdly powerful as he is, could have easily put several on him. His craving was all in his mind – in wanting Algol’s chest, his warm mouth, his powerful body, his stiff and thick cock, his completely menacing presence…

Algol was right. His presence leaves people drunk and wishing for more.

Aya’to will simply have to get more.


End file.
